Chapter 44
Forty-Four
“I can do this,” I say to no one but myself. I pace in my small living room. My eyes fall to the photo of Vovó. “Help me figure this out, Vovó.”
I can’t lose Maggie.
I have become as attached to that woman as Vovó was to my grandfather and to me. I don’t care if it’s out of character. The yearning is real. The pit of my gut tells me I need Maggie.
“I could give the majors a shot—” I look at the photo of my grandmother, believing she’ll give me a sign if this is the answer.
Nanners stretches out on my couch, yawning. My plan does not interest her.
It’s not as if I haven’t thought about the majors.
Every minor player wants to make it to the majors.
But there’s so much more to it than the world realizes.
The transition isn’t simple. Or easy. And if it hasn’t happened yet, it’s not going to suddenly work out just because I need Maggie McCrae in my life.
“I could ref. Maggie and I could be a team.” But even as I say the words, I know I wouldn’t like it.
But then, for Maggie… I might be able to do it.
“Coaching!” I dart my eyes back to Vovó’s picture, but my grandmother doesn’t speak to me from her framed photo.
“There’s an answer. I know there is.” Because I’m not giving her up.
I pull out my phone. I need help. I’m not going to solve this on my own, and Nanners is zero help. I keep waiting for a sign from Vovó, but it’s not coming either. Just like I can’t win a match on my own. I need my team.
Me: What can I do instead of soccer?
Roman: Instead of soccer? Confused.
Zev: Who stole Lucca’s phone? Tru? Wade? Is that you?
Callum: What do you mean, Lucca? We need more.
Me: I can’t play and have Maggie. So, what else can I do?
Zev: Whoa. Serious? You’re actually asking what else you should do? For a woman?
Me: Her name is Maggie.
Me: Can someone here help me with answers? I already know the question.
Callum: We’re just wrapping our heads around this. You’re really that serious about Maggie?
Zev: Because you’re never serious about women.
Me: Well, I’m serious about Maggie.
Roman: And you have to choose between her and your career?
Me: Yes.
Roman: Whoa.
Zev: Dang.
Callum: Ditto.
Me: Answers and ideas would be helpful.
Me: I could ref…
Roman: You’d hate that.
Zev: Stand on the sidelines? That isn’t you, Lucca.
Callum: Sorry, man. I agree. You aren’t an official.
They know me—and they’re just confirming what I’ve already told myself.
Roman: There’s always the major league.
Callum: That isn’t exactly in our control. If we could just sign with a big club, we’d all have done so by now.
Me: I could go back to school.
To do what? I don’t know yet. But it’s an option.
Roman: Hold up. Are you insane? You’d actually quit? This job is your life. Your love. Your passion.
Zev: Maybe he’s found a new passion.
Zev: I say that with the disclosure that I don’t want you to quit, nor do I think you should. That’s a huge decision—one that can’t be erased. You need to examine your feelings carefully. As well as hers.
Roman: Is she worth this?
Roman: And to be clear, I’m not saying she isn’t. I like Maggie. And I’d make a major choice like this for Stella. But Lucca, you’ve never been one for a committed, monogamous relationship.
Me: I know that.
Callum: And?
Me: And I would agree with that—with every woman in the world, except Maggie.
Nanners has found a home on my left shoulder. I don’t mind one bit—I think she’s going to be my good luck charm for my next conversation. And if I’ve ever wanted luck, charm, and heavenly help, it’s now.
Me: What if I went back to school?
Maggie: I didn’t know you wanted to go back to school. What would you study?
Me: Lots of things.
Maggie: Sure. Do it. It would be difficult. But you could manage soccer and school. Are you thinking of online classes?
Me: No, school INSTEAD of soccer.
Me: And then, we could be together. No more not-dating Maggie and Lucca. We could be dating Maggie and Lucca.
And then my phone is ringing. I answer the FaceTime call to Maggie’s pretty brown eyes glaring back at me. “Are you freaking kidding me?” There is a scowling frown on those pretty pink lips of hers.
I lower my brow. “So, you don’t think school is a good idea?”
“Quit soccer?” Her jaw clenches. “You cannot be serious.”
Nanners stretches and, one-handed, I move her from my shoulder to my lap.
“Oh, but I am.” Does she believe me insincere?
“I thought about refereeing—like you. We could work together, but I don’t think that would be a good fit.
It’s good work, don’t get me wrong. You’re very much in shape and knowledgeable—"
“I don’t need you telling me how knowledgeable I am, Lucca. I know how knowledgeable I am. I need you to stop acting crazy.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that to me?”
She huffs. “Who else have you broached this insanity to?”
“Just the guys—Roman, Zev, Callum. Why does no one believe I’m earnest?”
“Because,” she says, her cheeks turning red, “giving up soccer to date me is crazy.”
“Except that it’s not,” I say, wishing we were having this conversation in person. I run a hand over Nanners. She’s good company—when she isn’t being a wild animal—but my apartment still feels empty. I need Maggie here. Wyatt, too.
“Yes, it is.” Her voice is shrill and high.
I tug on one ear. “Ouch. Could you bring it down a decibel?”
She stands—I think she’s in her bedroom—and begins to pace. “Lucca, we are not—”
“But we are,” I say, my words gentle.
“And you cannot—”
“Except I can.” I give one small shrug. I’ve got an answer for all of her scenarios.
And school—school is the answer. I can figure out what I might like to do and be with Maggie. Sure, I’ll miss the game and the guys. Painfully so, if I’m being honest, but I can’t play forever, and this woman is worth it. She is forever. I feel it in every fiber of my body.
“Soccer is your life,” she says. “You live, eat, breathe this game. You made it to the pros. People don’t just give up the pros, Lucca!”
I let her words settle in the air before I remind her, “Some people do.”
She blinks, and her face gets very near the camera. “Lucca Cruz. If you weren’t forty minutes away—”
“I wish I weren’t. I wish you lived in this apartment with me and Nanners.”
“Lucca!” she cries, her head shaking. “You don’t even know what you’re saying. People don’t make these kinds of decisions on a whim, because of a few kisses—”
“Delicious kisses. Isn’t that what you called them the other night?
And this isn’t because of a kiss. Or even a hundred.
This is because of how I feel when I’m with you.
As well as how I feel when I’m not with you.
It’s terrible, by the way. It’s also about the way you feel about me, Maggie Pie.
I need you in my life. And I think you need me, too. ”
She stares at me. But she doesn’t say a word. Maybe she can’t. Maybe for once, she’s run out of ways to object to me.
“You gave up soccer for Wyatt,” I say. “Why can’t I give it up for you?”
Maggie sniffs. “That’s different, and you know it. I didn’t have a choice.”
“Only you did. You could have stayed and played. You’d be on the women’s U.S. National Team today. That’s what we both know. You would be more successful than me. We both know that, too.”
“It’s different,” she says again, but this time her voice is small, her protest weak.
“You have already sacrificed so much for your family. Isn’t it time someone sacrificed for you?” I feel in my gut that Vovó would love this declaration. She would be behind it one hundred percent.
“Lucca, you’re kind. This might be the grandest, sweetest gesture any person has ever even thought of making for me. But no. You don’t change your life because you like someone.”
“I more than like you.” And again, the words feel right. “And I think you know that, too.”